Dustin was grinning, as he came up the walk to his house.
"See you later, Tuck!"
"Check with your folks, and let me know!" Tucker Jones shouted back as he drove off in his convertible.
Ty had ensconced himself next to the front door to watch Dustin's reaction to Ty's improvements to Dustin's parents.
"So what's Tucky want you to get permission for?" drawled Ty wickedly as he leaned against the door frame leading into the living room.
"Jocks only party," Dustin replied tersely, "You're not invited, Homo."
At the word "Homo", Markie leapt to up, and lisped, "Yesh, Mashter Dushtin."
"Da-?" started to say staring at the big muscle hunk that had been massaging his mother's feet. The face looked like his dad's but there was no way that his dad could be that tall muscled lisping stranger, "Who the f@#* are you? What are you doing with my mother? And where's my dad?"
"Oh, Dusty, did you get another concussion at school today?" cooed June sympathetically getting up and rushing over to her son with out stretched arms.
"No. I don't think so? Where's dad?"
"Honey, you know I slept around before you were born, and I don't know who your father is!" June said with her hands on her hips.
"Don't know? He was here this morning when I left for school, remember?"
"Oh, Dusty, let me feel your head," June ordered.
"Please!" Dustin said, "Stop playing head games. Where's dad? Who's this gay freak? Has everyone gone mad?"
Ty was almost ready to intervene, when June called to her houseboy, "Markie, get over here, and help me get Dustin upstairs and undressed. We need to see if he's got a fever or any unexplained bumps or bruises. I saw on Oprah that when someone has a head injury and is hysterical, you must restrain them for their own good."
"What? Wait!" Dustin protested, as Markie crossed the room in three strides and grabbed Dustin.
Neither Ty nor Dustin were exactly sure how Markie had managed to rip Dustin's shirt off so quickly and gag Dustin with it. It seemed that Ty had given Markie access to every trick in the BSDM handbook. Restraining Dustin's wrists behind Dustin's back, Markie's free hand slipped inside Dustin's jeans and briefs to carry a sobbing Dustin upstairs.
"Don't worry, June, I know jussht what to do. I'll shtrip Dushty, tie 'im to hish bed, and thoroughly inshpect him. You get a rectal thermometer, 'caushe we don't want him biting into the mercury."
"Good idea, Markie. You do that, I'll look for the rectal thermometer."
"Mmm-nnngh!" screamed Dustin into the gag.
Markie's middle finger slipped into Dustin's anus, and Dustin's crotch started to swell.
Ty just grinned. "Can I help, Aunt June?"